


Expedition

by zombified_queer



Category: Bugsnax (Video Game)
Genre: Archaeology, Body Horror, Horror, Other, Sometimes a date can be you and the hot archaeologist looking at bones in the desert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29813592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombified_queer/pseuds/zombified_queer
Summary: There's something skulking around the ruins. Triffany and Floofty have both seen it.
Relationships: Floofty Fizzlebean & Triffany Lottablog, Floofty Fizzlebean/Triffany Lottablog
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Expedition

The ruins are quiet, windswept and full of dust. But Triffany can only deduce so much from ruins and so little from the bones themselves.

Floofty squats down in the pit, looking the bones over. Each one has its own secrets. It's just a matter of details. Floofty brushes sand away. As they thought, a skull fracture.

"Any luck, doc?"

"Murder," Floofty diagnoses, not looking up from the bones. "Or an untimely accident involving a very large rock."

Triffany nods. "These Grumpuses carried war clubs...d'y'think...?"

"It's entirely possible," Floofty agrees. "Though it does beg the question of why the in-fighting occurred."

"Well, we fight the same way. Always bickering..."

"We've never gone on a hunt for each other," Floofty points out, finally looking up at Triffany. "If we should, I would like to 'call dibs' on Wambus, as Beffica would put it."

Triffany laughs. "Not if I call dibs on 'im first."

Floofty climbs out of the pit, giving Triffany a look of concern. "Again? Honestly, you'd think the two of you were younger than Gramble."

"Well," Triffany looks embarrassed, "sometimes...I like bein' alone."

"You like the thought of being alone," Floofty points out. "You wouldn't have invited me if you truly liked solitude."

Triffany keeps opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water. But it's no use. There's no counter she can offer.

Floofty nods. There doesn't need to be any sort of counter to their argument. The silence is enough.

Judging by the sun sinking low and the shadows in the gorge, it's getting late. "We should set up for the night."

"I'll, um, get the fire going."

* * *

Floofty's not a heavy sleeper by any means. The steps outside the ruins wake them. The shape in the doorway isn't Triffany. 

Without drawing too much attention, Floofty reaches out. They have a flashlight, something bulky and useful as a weapon. They find it. Or something just as good. 

Floofty moves slow, keeping as low to the ground as possible. When they spring forward, they hit the figure. It squishes. Something wet and sweet-smelling splatters on them.

With a low growl, the thing breaks down. Not in any coherent fashion. It's like Bopsicles and Grande Paletosses splitting. But instead of scampering off, every component piece sinks into the earth.

Floofty swallows. There's nothing to be scared of, rationally. It's gone. Floofty's scared it off. 

"Doc?"

Turning, Floofty has the misfortune of being blinded by Triffany's flashlight. 

"Sorry." Click. Blessed darkness again. "So...you've seen it too?"

"What is that thing?"

Triffany rests a paw on Floofty's shoulder, guiding them back inside. "I dunno. It's not a Grumpus."

"But it's not exactly Bugsnax."

"Yeah." Triffany licks her paw, scrubbing Floofty's cheek. "It's...sure something."

"Is that a common occurrence?" Floofty despises the grooming, but sits still. It's safer in numbers. "I shudder to think about it."

"It's never come this close. Usually it just lingers around, watching."

"We should retreat to Snaxburg. For supplies, if nothing else."

"I...can't. Not with the way I left things between Wambus and I."

"This is bigger than petty squabbles," Floofty points out. "This...creature appears to be dangerous."

"It's never hurt anyone."

"Shall we take the time to wait until it does?" Floofty snaps. 

Triffany stops scrubbing Floofty's cheek. "Well...I...Y'see..."

"There's nothing to be done about it," Floofty points out, taking Triffany's paw in their own. "For your safety."

"I suppose one night wouldn't hurt. I can set up my sleeping bag and rough it in the research tent."

Floofty nods. 

"Doc?"

"Yes?"

"Would you mind leaving the war club at the dig site?"

Floofty glances down at the club they're still holding. Its blunt head is covered in something red. They give it a cursory sniff.

"Strawberry," Floofty says.

"Like jam?" 

"I can only assume so."

"Our strange friend bleeds strawberry." Triffany starts to laugh. "Strawberry jam!"

Floofty can't help but chuckle. It's a stress-relief response, obviously. And it's funny. There's a tall Grumpus-Bugsnak monster walking around bleeding strawberry jam.

By the time they both compose themselves, the sun's started to come up.

"Well, guess we won't spend the night in the research tent, hmm?"

"If you're tired when we return to Snaxburg, I can make accommodations," Floofty offers.

"I might like that, doc," Triffany admits.

* * *

The war club makes a fearsome addition to Floofty's hut. It's hung with care on the wall next to their cot. Easily within reach. Just in case they have an unwanted visitor in the night.

Or in case Wambus wants to have a few impolite words with them.

And the club is still covered in strawberry jam.


End file.
